Standing in the sun
by fixusi
Summary: An attempt to kill Peter and Neal fails, but it leaves Neal trapped inside an old hospital with a psychotic killer and Peter outside without a way to contact the others in their team.
1. Chapter 1

_An: This is my first White Collar fanfiction so I'm a little excited! I've only seen the first two seasons so far, but it won't affect the story in any way._

 _Set nowhere particular. Hurt, but nothing too graphic (as in I'm-gonna-throw-up-this-is-gross kind of stuff, but also not meh-this-is-boring-as-fuck kind of stuff)._

 _Neal, Peter, Mozzie and a few own characters._

 _No slash._

 _Rated T for some violence and a little swearing._

 _Summary: An attempt to kill Peter and Neil fails, but it leaves Neal trapped inside an old hospital with a psychotic killer and Peter outside without a way to contact the others in their team._

 _Enjoy!_

xx

"Are you sure this is the place?" Neal asked, glancing out of the car window at the huge, abandoned hospital standing in front of them in the dimming evening light. It was far from the city, the reason it had been abandoned, and the reason their guy might hold up inside, and he knew it. But something didn't feel right about the building, he just couldn't figure out what.

Peter nodded, shutting off the engine of the car. "A jogger saw someone sneak into the building an hour after the murder. It might be nothing, but.."

"Yeah", Neal replied, taking a final glance at the hospital before tearing his eyes from it and stepping out of the car.

Their killer, so far unnamed, had gone on a killing streak, dropping bodies twice a day but doing a great job at not leaving any evidence they could use to identify him behind - so far they had gotten a half of a fingerprint that had had no matches in their database, and a stump of a smoked cigarette that, too, had gotten then nowhere. This was their first actual lead, if it even was that. Neal was pretty sure the hospital wouldn't get them anywhere.

But still, there was something off. And he was dying to know what.

Peter followed Neal out of the car and closed the doors with the key before walking up to his friend who had already taken a few steps towards the building in front of them. Quickly Peter counted the floors - ten floors tall and probably a basement. That was eleven floors to search.

"I think we might need more people", Peter said, watching Neal as he turned to face the agent. "I had no idea this place was going to be this big."

"Lets just visit it first", Neal suggested. "If there are marks of an entry somewhere, we'll call for backup. I doubt he's hiding here, he's too intelligent to settle for something like this."

Peter had to admit that the con was right. There was no point in calling for backup when the building was most probably empty.

"Lets go then", Peter replied, beginning to walk towards the hospital with Neal by his side.

As they got closer, Neal started to see the building for what it really was - spraypainted pictures on the windows and the walls, spider web in the corners, glassy doors nailed shut with thick boards, an ER sign hanging loose on the wall on top of one of the entrances. The place was a mess, and every second he grew more certain that their guy wasn't there.

Approaching the ER door, Neal walked ahead of Peter and inspected the door. It was sealed shut, and nobody had definitely used it in years.

So they circled the building to the main entrance of the hospital, and found it sealed too. Someone had attempted to break down the boards but had failed or given up, but Neal guessed it had just been a few curious teens and not their murderer.

Then they came to the door that had been probably used by the chefs of the hospital, because it seemed to lead into a kitchen, as far as Neal could tell from the dusty window beside the door. The door wasn't boarded or barred, so Neal turned to face Peter with a question on his face. Should he open it?

Peter nodded, and Neal pushed at the door, and it opened with a creaky noise. Glancing inside, Neal stepped in a few steps and heard a small tick - and before he could even flinch everything was buried under the loudest noise he had ever heard and this heat that seemed to burn Neal all the way into his insides, a white pain engulfed him and every fiber of his body before he slammed hard into something and everything went black.

xx

He came to just second after losing his consciousness, probably. He opened his eyes, his whole body aching and his head swimming, and saw fire behind and inside a thick layer of dust lingering in the air everywhere around him. It was almost pitch black around him, but he could make out a figurless lump blocking the door and the hallway - a quick glance upwards showed him that the ceiling had collapsed, blocking Neal's way out.

Everything was blurry, in his eyes as well as in his mind, but he did realize on thing. "Peter."

Neal groaned, and let his head fall back onto the ground. The ache was killing him, his whole body telling him to just stay there and fall unconscious, but the thought of Peter buried under all that metal and concrete kept him awake, and so he slowly raised his head again and then pushed himself up by his elbows.

"Peter?" he called out, coughing as the sudden intake of dust and smoke of the fire made his throat hurt. "Peter!"

He pushed himself up onto his feet, swaying a little but mostly alright. The ache worsened as he stood up, and suddenly his head felt heavy and the world spun around so hard Neal collapsed against the wall but forced himself to stay upright.

 _You've only banged your head. It's nothing more than that. Focus,_ he told himself. _Peter might be somewhere under that crap. I gotta find him. I can do it._

With a groan he forced his eyes open - which he hadn't realized he'd closed - and his legs to move. As he got to the mess of concrete, wood and metal, the air got worse and he had to stop and cough. It hurt his lungs, but he couldn't leave before he knew Peter wasn't under all of that. He wouldn't let Peter die.

xx

Peter's ears rang and his vision swam as he raised his head from where he lay on the ground, momentarily paralyzed by the shock of what had just happened. First he'd been standing there, pulling his phone out of his pocket to call Diana, and then he'd flown through the air and landed hard on his back on the asphalt, his head colliding with the ground hard enough to knock him out for a moment or two.

Where the hell was Neal?

Shit.

He was inside when it exploded.

This panic-like feeling took over and he rushed to his feet, only to find his balance wasn't working and to meet the ground again.

He groaned, rolling over to his back and taking a second to gather his strength. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision, and slowly it started to clear. His head ached and his ears still rang, but when he climbed to his feet again -more carefully this time-, he found his legs working and rushed to the sealed door.

Well, the door wasn't there, but the doorway was blocked by a collapsed ceiling, it looked like.

 _This is bad._

 _"_ Peter!" he heard Neal's voice from the other side. He sounded scared.

"Neal?" Peter called out, peeking inside through a small hole in the mess of concrete and other materials, but something was blocking it a little further away. "Are you okay?"

"I'm alright", Neal's voice echoed. "You?"

"I'm good", Peter replied. "What the hell happened?"

"A trap", Neal replied, and coughed. "I think."

Peter furrowed his brows. Neal did not sound fine. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I just.. the explosion knocked me down", Neal said. "There's a fire in here, I gotta get out."

"Damn right you do", Peter replied, remembering the phone. It had landed somewhere near him, Peter was sure. He just needed to find it. They needed help.

Looking around himself, Peter quickly located the phone... in million pieces. Shit.

"My phone's broken", Peter told the con. "You have yours?"

"Didn't take it with me", Neal answered, coughing again. Harder this time. Longer. "I need to get away from the smoke or I'll black out. I'll find a way out of here, you find a way to get help."

Taking orders from Neal was never fun to Peter, but he nodded. He knew Neal was right, so why argue. "Be careful in there, Neal."

"I will", Neal's voice replied, and Peter groaned. Great. Just great.

He turned around and started walking towards the car, but halfway to it he realized he'd lost the keys. With a sigh he turned around and started to search.

What he missed was the figure of a man looking down at him from the third floor window before turning around and disappearing.

xx

Neal jogged down the hallway, escaping the smoke and dust little by little until it was finally gone and he could breathe again. The clean air felt great in his burning lungs and sore throat, and so he slowed down his pace and continued to walk down the hallway until he came to a turn and walked into the kitchen of the hospital.

It was an eerie sight with the dusty, metallic tables and a sink, with forgotten tools lying around. In the dim light it was hard to see clearly, but Neal noticed a knife on the table and grabbed it - just in case. He didn't trust this hospital.

Continuing through the kitchen and out of the other door, Neal came to another hallway, shorter this time. An old painting hung on the wall, covered in dust like everything else. A door laid at the end of the hallway, the only door besides the one Neal had come from, so he headed towards that.

Walking through it, he came to another hallway, bigger this time. It had doors on both sides of it and a reception in the end where the hallway expanded into a room. Most of the doors were open, so as he passed by them, he made sure to peek in.

Hospital beds and old machines stood inside, unused for years. _This is straight out of a bad horror movie_ , Neal thought as he walked, grimacing at the thought. As he came to the reception, he saw the front doors, but knew he wouldn't get out through them. He had to find another way. Maybe a window?

Turning around and walking into one of the rooms, he headed to the window. It was thick glass, the kind you didn't break by punching it. And by the look of it, there were two sets of glasses between him and freedom.

The sound of something metallic clinking against something metallic echoed out from the hallway, and Neal spun around, raising the knife he had grabbed from the kitchen. His heart slowly started to speed up its pace as he took a few shaky steps towards the door, but quickly froze when he heard the sound of someone stepping onto a piece of glass, breaking it.

Staring at the hallway, Neal tried to think of a plan but only came up with one - run.

But before he could take the first step to escape, a man appeared at the door and rushed at Neal. Flincing back, Neal dodged the man and swung at him with his knife, but didn't hit. The man grabbed Neal's wrist, twisted, and as pain shot through Neal's arm his fingers loosened around the knife and he fell on his knees only to be yanked up by the man half a second later-

"Good night, mr. Caffrey", the man hissed.

Neal felt the man's hands grab his head, a sharp pain following a quick movement and everything went black again.

xx

 _Yeah, so this is how chapter one ends. Sorry for possible typos, btw, I didn't have a beta! Aaalso, English isn't my native language, so any wording mistake is definitely my fault :D but well, shit happens._

 _Leave a review! Did you hate it, love it? I really appreciate every comment C:_

 _-fixusi_


	2. Chapter 2

_An: Heeey and welcome to chapter two! Without further ramblings, have fun and enjoy the chapter._

xx

Peter had found his car keys and was now in his car, trying to clear out his head. Everything was hazy but it was starting to get easier to think every second now - and so he was trying to come up with a way to get the office to know they were in trouble without having to leave Neal. He couldn't leave him there alone, especially now when he was certain their murderer was holding up in the hospital.

The thing just was, there was no way in. There probably was a way out, but no way to get inside. The windows were too high for him to reach and the doors were all now sealed. He just had to sit tight and wait for Neal to get out, and find a way to get them help.

xx

Neal groaned. _Not again._ He was full of getting knocked unconscious already, because waking up was always a task of its own. His head ached like someone was stabbing the back of it, his sight was blurry and his whole body felt exhausted.

"You're awake", a voice echoed out. "Great. I was already getting afraid you wouldn't wake up."

Blinking a few times, Neal found himself from the floor on his stomach. The world was spinning around him, so he closed his eyes again.

Quick steps. "Hey, hey, hey! Don't fall asleep again. I need you awake", the voice said. A slap on the cheek.

Neal drew in a deep breath and forced his eyes open. It stung. All he could see was a pair of boots and the wooden floor.

The man tapped him onto the cheek. "Good boy. Sit up, Neal, and face me like a man."

Nodding slightly, his cheek scraping against the floor, Neal gathered his strength again and pushed himself up, the exhaustion slowly wearing off so his head started to work a little better.

The man snorted in satisfaction and took a few steps back, sitting down onto a chair.

As he got up, Neal took a quick look at the room. It was lit by dozens of flashlights hanging from the ceiling by rope. It was probably an attic, since it was windowless and the walls had pipes running on them, and metallic bars rose from the floor to the ceiling, holding up old electrical cords.

Definitely an attic, or a basement.

Then he turned to see the man, and to his surprise, recognized him. Not by name, but from a crime scene he had visited with Peter.

The guy was a cop.

"I know you", Neal said, narrowing his eyes on the man. "You were at the crime scene. I knew there was something odd about you."

The man laughed. "Yeah! You really bought the whole divorce story I gave you. You're an easy man to fool, mr. Caffrey."

"You never told me your name", Neal pointed out. "You know mine. It's only fair I know yours."

"I don't think so", the cop said. "You can just call me, lets think.. Roy. Yeah, Roy sounds good. It's my middle name."

Rolling his eyes, Neal shifted on the floor. "Let me go, _Roy._ There's no need for this."

"No, there actually is. The moment you two pulled up into the yard, you made up your destiny", Roy said, standing up and throwing Neal a pair of handcuffs. "Cuff yourself to the pipe."

Grabbing the cuffs, Neal stared at Roy. He wasn't sure what to do - so Roy decided for him. A sudden, hard kick to the chest and Neal flew backwards and hit the floor with a cry as his already hurting back reminded of its existence.

"Do it now!" Roy screamed, and Neal was too concerned to disobey.

xx

Peter was clueless of what to do. It had almost been half an hour since Neal and he had parted ways by the collapsed door and there was no sign of Neal, not yet. He had tried to find a way to contact the others but failed, because there was _no way_ to contact them!

And so he got up from the car and jogged to the hospital, starting to walk around it, hoping to find another way in. If he couldn't bring the FBI to them, he'd take them to the FBI, but to do that he needed to find Neal, and Neal was inside.

xx

Glaring up at the man, Neal held his stomach with his uncuffed hand. "Why are you doing this?"

"You found me", Roy simply answered as he sat back down. "I couldn't let you get to me or call for backup. The bomb was already there, I just set it off with my phone. Easy."

"You forgot one thing", Neal said and grinned, "Peter is still out there. He has probably already called for backup."

It was a lie -and a wish-, but Neal hoped Roy didn't know about the broken phone.

"He hasn't", Roy replied. "His phone broke in the explosion. I heard him tell you so. And by the look of him, he isn't leaving here without you, which means that sooner or later he'll find a way in. That's when I grab him too, and get rid of him like I'll get rid of you."

A malevolent grin on his lips, Roy leaned down and stared at Neal. "Don't look so scared. It'll be fun."

"Why did you kill all those people?" Neal asked, his goal to get Roy talk about something else than killing Neal. Maybe that would buy him some time to... do something. Anything.

Roy shrugged with a laugh. "They were on my way."

"On your way?" Neal asked, lifting his eyebrows. He had to get free from the cuffs. If only he had a pin or a clip..

"Yeah", Roy nodded. "On my way. Sometimes success means having to remove the obstacles."

"How is a fourteen year old kid an obstacle? Or an old taxi driver?" Neal kept asking, glaring at the man. People like Roy made Neal feel like an upstanding, honest and law abiding citizen. He didn't just _get_ killing - during his best days he had been lucky and rich and had never killed anyone. There was never a need to kill a human being.

Roy shrugged again and straightened his back. "They were on my way. The kid knew too much. The cab guy refused to take me home. I guess it was because I was covered in blood, but he should have just taken me home like I asked instead of the police."

Neal watched Roy as he got onto his feet. "Now, though, shall we begin the fun?"

Yanking Neal to his feet, Roy eyed the young man. "How old are you, Neal?"

"I'm 32", Neal replied, meeting the man's gaze. His heart was racing in his chest - he was scared. "You don't want to do this."

"Oh, I do", Roy replied and hit Neal, his fist colliding with Neal's cheek so hard his head snapped to the side and a grunt escaped his lips.

xx

Neal cried out when Roy finally let go of his collar and he collapsed onto the floor, breathing heavily through the pain in his face. His vision was blurry and he was pretty sure he had bitten through his lip by the amount of pain it caused.

Laying there, just trying to keep breathing, he closed his eyes. That had been the longest five minutes of his life.

He heard steps and Roy leaving the room. With a gasp he opened his eyes and lazily pushed himself up, the cuff around the metallic bar clinking.

Realizing the opportunity, Neal blinked a few times to clear out his vision and then started to search the room for something he could use to pick the lock - he searched the floors for a few minutes until he realized he was wearing a tie. And on the tie was the metallic clip.

Quickly he took it off, and almost lost it when his fingers trembled, but got a hold of it and went to pick the lock on the cuffs. He needed to get free and out of there. Roy was going to kill him if he didn't - him and Peter.

Hopefully Peter hadn't come into the hospital. He couldn't be that stupid.. or could he?

Neal was pretty sure Peter would risk his well-being to come and save him. After all, Neal was pretty important to Peter. Mostly because of his skills. Maybe a little bit because Peter had started to think of Neal as a friend and not just an asset. Whatever the reasons were, whatever Peter was doing, Neal simply hoped he was still outside.

Letting out a frustrated groan as the lock didn't open immediately, Neal tried again, and this time he heard a satisfying click. He was free.

Slowly -and most importantly, silently- he climbed to his feet and approached the door. It wasn't locked, so pushing the door handle down, Neal carefully opened the door and stepped out into another room of the same kind as the previous, just bigger, a lot bigger. It had a window at the far wall, and Neal knew it was definitely the attic - he could see the treetop from the window.

Noises echoed from the below, so Neal knew Roy was somewhere on the lower floor, and so he silently moved through the attick and into the stairwell leading down.

As he walked down the stairs, slowly and as quietly as he possibly could, he tried to get a look of Roy but saw him nowhere, and so he slipped off the stairs and into the next ones leading down again. He picked up his pace and got to the other floor, number eight. One floor behind, seven to go. He could do it, if he just kept quiet-

"Hey!"

Neal spun around and saw Roy. He looked surprised to see Neal free but furious at the same time, but Neal didn't stick around to wait for him. Instead, he spun around again and started to run down the stairs.

Through his heavy breathing and loud steps, he could still hear Roy not far behind him, but that only made him quicken his pace even more to the point he lost his footing on the last step before reaching floor seven and came crashing down onto his back on the floor. A grunt escaped his lips and he tried to get up but he was too slow, because in a second Roy was on top of him, throwing punches at the con with all his might.

Neal raised his hands to protect his face and instinctively struggled under the man's weight, squirming and trying to turn around to get the man fall down. Fists kept hitting his body, his head, and Neal grew desperate, finally twisting his body so hard Roy fell to the side and into the stairwell, but before Neal could react Roy had grabbed Neal by his leg and yanked him down the stairs with him so together they fell.

Neal's body hit the stairs over and over again and sometimes his legs or an arm would accidentally hit Roy and vice versa. Neal's whole body hurt, his already hurting head hitting the stairs over and over again until the seemingly neverending stairs came to a halt and they stopped moving.

Drawing in a sharp breath Neal opened his eyed, gasping as pain hit his side. Roy was lying partially underneath him, in an equally achy condition.

Forcing himself up, Neal took a hold of the wall and started running. He wasn't thinking - the only thing he knew was to get away from Roy as fast as possible, as far as possible, or he was dead before he knew it.

xx

Peter groaned in frustration and slammed the door again. This was pointless! He had no way of getting in, and it had been almost an hour since his chat with Neal. Something bad had happened, he knew it.

He only wished Neal was alive.

 _I have to get him help,_ Peter thought, and turned around. _I can't get in, and he can't get out. I need help._

Starting to run towards the car, Peter took one last glance at the hospital before reaching his car, starting the engine and driving away.

xx

Neal closed the door of the room he had run into and quickly looked around himself. He needed something to block the door with.

Noticing a heavy looking shelf beside the door, Neal quickly got to the other side of it and pushed. He pushed and pushed until a creaking noise echoed out and it tipped over, crashing in front of the door.

Letting out the breath he'd been holding, Neal backed away from the door and rushed to the window just in time to see Peter's car leave the yard. Some part of him was relieved, but some part of him wanted to crash open the window and make Peter come back and save him. Because he was scared, he really was. Scared and in pain.

Truth to be told, only now he realized how much he actually hurt. Adrenalin had kept him going for a good while, but now it was probably wearing off, and he let himself slide down against the wall, out of breath.

Closing his eyes, Neal tried to block out the pain. His sides hurt, his legs hurt, his arms and neck hurt, well, his whole body hurt. Falling down the stairs had been the last straw.

God, he was exhausted. He knew it hadn't probably been longer than an hour since they'd arrived into the hospital with Peter, but man, did it feel like an eternity to him. And not in the good way, not at all.

But he knew that Peter was now on his way to the others. They'd come to save him. He simply had to hang on until then.

xx

 _I feel so mean! What do you think? Leave a review!_


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